Ain't No Rest For The Wicked
by LeShyWolf
Summary: Mae Tyler knew that she was an idiot the moment she followed a stranger with a cowboy hat into the dark abyss of hell on a damn horse, but that sure as hell wouldn't stop her from surviving. Maybe a bit of Glenn/OC. HIATUS


_Skin to skin, blood and bone_  
_You're all by yourself but you're not alone_  
_You wanted in and now you're here_  
_Driven by hate, consumed by fear ~Drowning pool_

* * *

_"Shit_."

_**NO GAS**.  
_

That was what my eyes read from the small sign moving gently in the breeze back and forth, hitting against the beam above the petrol pump with a slight squeak. The silence to me was eerie, all the empty cars, scattered things that aren't useful. My stomach lurched at the sight of a baby doll that probably belonged to a little girl. My features twisted into a grim expression as I looked around. A pang in my chest. The juice in the black Yamaha I had rode for quite a while was empty and needed more.

My eyes flickered towards the sky and my nerves clenched tightly at the thought of it becoming dark soon, the Rotters normally came out at night more than the day. I would rather avoid a fight with them. In this world fight or flight was your option when faced with the zombies (it was sickening and a bitter joke to refer to them as that, but it was basically the cold truth) and I had only killed a couple. I was mostly running, keeping a low profile all the time rather than being impulsive and attempting to kill every one of them in sight.

I had been alone through all of this.

Loneliness ate away at me sometimes, but the other half of my considered this lucky. What if the person I loved died? Or worse, got bitten by one of those things. I wouldn't have that self hate and brooding life style. I wouldn't grieve. I had lost my family among all this insanity. I knew that the chances of them being alive were very low, but I knew that my subconscious was denying it. Even though I knew it, I didn't want to believe it.

Swinging my small back pack onto my shoulder and holding onto one of the straps, I looked down at the knife in my other hand with narrowed eyes. Swallowing as my lips flattened into a serious thin severe line. Anxious, I bit my lip and glanced around nervously before gripping the handle of the Bowie knife so tightly my knuckles drained of colour. I had a gun in my make-shift holster, but I preferred to use a knife because I had observed people in the shadows that used a gun.

It wasn't pretty.

It killed a few of _them_, sure but it attracted even _more_.

Way more than I would be able to handle.

Their groans also lured more of the undead, I had learned.

My converse boot clad feet scuffed against the pavement as I walked towards the gas station as quietly and cautiously as I could. My steps the only thing making a sound besides the bellowing of the blue loose car cover that was stuck in one of the doors and the squeaky movement of the '**NO GAS**' sign. I kept moving, eyes glancing everywhere in almost a paranoid manner. I got closer and closer until I reached the door of the gas station, cringing when the bell shook and rang as I came into the snack store. The sound echoed throughout the place and my heart thumped when I heard a small groan.

_Shit_.

Again.

My heart raced and I put the back pack down and knelt on the ground, unzipped it and took out a little rope that I collected when an idea entered my mind, carefully grasping the handle of the knife and glancing at the broom that was propped up against the wall as I took it. The groaning got a little louder and the rotter stumbled around the corner of the aisle. I gagged when I saw that half of his face was ripped off. It was a grim, gory sight. And I was the type of person to never flinch, cringe or puke when I watched all those kind of movies. But seeing it in real life... it was indescribable. Just _horrible _and_ purely sickening._

My hand shot over towards the broom, my feet stubbornly staying where they were instead of falling over every five seconds like those stereotypical chicks form horror movies as if the floor was ice. Soon the rotter got closer and I quickly fumbled as I tied the knife to the edge of the broom before standing up and jerking it roughly into the undead's brain. He froze in his movements, steel intense terrible eyes staring straight to the pit of my soul with _hunger_. When I put the broom down on the floor, the zombie following suit because his head was stuck on the edge of my knife, a disgusting squelching noise emitted into the air when I pulled out my sloppy make-shift weapon.

"Gross..." I swallowed, grimacing. I untied the knife from the broom, wiped it on the Rotter's shirt and then used the broom to move the zombie's body outside of the gas station door before I checked out the rest of the place, getting rid of the dead bodies just in case (and stabbing their heads for good measure) before I closed the blinds, barricaded the doors with shelves and sitting behind the counter with my head leaned up against it and my backpack sitting next to me.

I couldn't sleep, I could never sleep.

Not in a world like this.

Most of the supplies in the station were gone, but I still had some stuff in my backpack. I was getting kind of hungry, always tired, my limbs shaky and my eyes sore. Reaching into my pocket, I took out my glasses and put them on, sliding them up with my finger when they slipped down. The glasses weren't mine and I didn't really need them unless it was for seeing in the distance. My stomach grumbled and I looked in my backpack, pulling out a banana and eating it before I stood up and got a bottle of water that had been knocked over onto the ground.

Rolling and scrunching up my jumper into a small pillow like shape, I leaned up against the counter , leaning my brown leather journal onto my legs as I propped them up and bent my knees. I used the pen, writing about everything I did, about everything I missed. Since I didn't have a person to talk to, to rant and unbottle everything that was caged inside of me. It kept my sanity. And, hell. I had always wanted to be a writer. Though, that wasn't useful in the world of the walking dead.

I kept writing until the next morning, then I fell asleep.

**BANG!**

My whole body jolted and my eyes snapped open, my neck popped awkwardly and I ignored the crick as I glanced around wildly in alarm at the noise. That was a _gunshot. _That meant somebody was_ alive. _But that also meant that the sound of the gun going off would attract other rotting walking corpse's. At this revelation, in the speed of lightning I gathered up everything I could while cursing underneath my breath. I looked out of the window, seeing a man wearing a police uniform and a cowboy hat standing there.

He had shot a zombie, good.

Was _he_ a good man and wouldn't attack me? I had no clue.

Was I getting out of here? You bet your bloody arse on it.

I cocked the gun and pocketed my knife as nerves twisted uncomfortably in my stomach. I hadn't encountered any people and I wasn't sure if I could trust him. But I was willing to try and see if he'd let me pass, maybe even learn if he knew anything about anywhere safe. He looked clean, like he had actually had a shower. So where he came from, there must have been power, right? Then again, this could all go badly and he'd shoot me.

But it was best to focus on the positive.

The bell rang as I walked out, he swerved around and aimed the gun at me. My eyes widened and I instinctively threw my arms in the air squeaking '_I surrender!_' and throwing the gun out of my hand like a retarded spazzing idiot instead of running back inside the station. But he froze, eyes wide as they looked at me like he was surprised. I was admittedly shocked to find another living person myself. A trigger-friendly seeming person... but _still_ a person and not one of _them_.

Almost instantly, to my relief, he took his aim off me and put his gun in the holster. He held up his hands as if I was the one aiming at him and stepped forward. I cautiously put my arms down and cleared my throat awkwardly, not taking my eyes off him as he stepped forward again slowly as if he didn't want me to run off like a startled deer.

"It's alright," he slowly put his hand out in front of him as he locked eyes with me. I noticed an accent that laced his voice... Georgian, _I think_. "I'm a police officer, I'm not gonna hurt you."

I was silent in reply, eyeing him warily as I got into a stance that was prepared to run in case he tried anything. He seemed to stop when he was quite a few feet away from me in case I was gonna bolt. The look in his eye was confusing to me, a gleam that was filled with such hope I almost couldn't look into the stranger's baby blues, not to mention the... relief? Joy? Maybe he was happy that he found another living person too. God knew these days were lonely.

Feeling alone wasn't a nice feeling.

"Wha's your name?" he asked me as he gazed at me as if it was hard to imagine I was actually standing there, still keeping his distance to probably build a small amount of trust between us.

What could be the harm in telling him my name?

Licking my dry and chapped lips, I said, "Mae."

He nodded, a faint smile on his face. Sky eyes regarding me from underneath his cowboy hat as he stepped a little closer. "I'm Rick Grimes, "

I nodded awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. My social skills were a little- uh, rusty.

"Are you alone?" He inquired, hope still shining in his eyes.

Unfortunately, I had no good news. I was uncomfortable to answer, but I did, "yes."

The hope was squashed, but he still looked like he had a spark of it in his eyes. "Where ya headed?"

"I'm just... drifting." I replied, tilting my head a little as I regarded him. My gut told me to trust him, but I wasn't sure. He seemed like a good guy. Plus he hadn't shot me. He didn't have a reason to kill me, and I didn't have a lot of supplies. Just pills, my journal, camera, a health aid kit, water and a few snacks. The camera was sentimental value. It had pictures of my friends, family and my life on it.

"I'm headin' towards Atlanta, there were broadcasts about it being safe there." Rick told me, seeming to put his trust in me as he stepped forward a few more times until he was standing in front of me, he had put his hands on his head to make him completely vulnerable to me as he looked at me. "It's got shelter, food and no walkers."

"Walkers?" I asked hesitantly, a flash of something unfathomable glinted in his eyes.

"My uh- an old friend of mine had called them walkers." He explained. "You, uh, gotta admit. The name fits."

"I call them rotters." I stated flatly, glancing at said rotting corpse on the ground. It was a little girl laying on the floor, skin grey, eyes glazed over and a disgusting steel grey. Mouth torn off and a teddy bear near her. I assumed that was hers. The sight made me ill and I gagged slightly, if this was the kind of world I had to live in... well, I didn't wanna live anymore. "That's also a fitting name."

"How have you survived this long on your own?"

I felt like I should be insulted.

"How have _you_?"

He gave me an apologetic glance, but I really couldn't blame him. You wouldn't expect somebody that looked like me to survive during this kind of this. I was still a kid, dorky glasses on my nose and dark wavy hair tied up. I wasn't ugly to look at, I thought myself as pretty but I wasn't the most attractive girl in the world. I was turning eighteen next year, I would have graduated from college since I joined when I was sixteen.

"Do you wanna lift?" He offered, his blue eyes a little concern, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing towards that direction. "I've got a car."

"No thanks." I politely and quietly declined. Though a lift would have been nice, bike being dead without juice and all.

"You sure?" He asked, that damn hope in the depths of his blue eyes. With that kind of hope in this world, you would die. "I have plenty of room and I can help protect you." He gave me a faint smile, it was kind and genuine. My resistance wavered. He really did seem nice, plus my gut instinct never seemed to be wrong. It had kept me alive so far. "And no offence, but you look like you could use a good nap."

The most I got on sleep would be an hour, more or less.

"Okay," I reluctantly agreed, but then pointed my finger at him. "But if you try _anything_-"

"I _won't_." He gave me such an intense, stern look of promise that looked too real to be pretend.

"Fine. Lead the way."

He nodded and turned around, basically becoming vulnearble to any attacks I could make on him. But I didn't. I was being a naive idiot, putting my trust in a stranger. But he just had _that_ certain air. The aura of a leader, a friendly face you could trust your life on. And I didn't know if he was lying about being an officer, but if he was telling the truth, then that was a plus. Having those skills to shoot a gun would be handy in this world.

He stopped when I didn't follow and looked confused, but I sighed and kept my hand on my knife as I walked after him, nerves clenching in my stomach. Then I felt like laughing when I saw the cop car, so he wasn't lying? Unless he stole it. Wouldn't put it pass him. You couldn't just trust _anybody_.

_Says the girl following a stranger into his car..._

I mentally scowled at my inner voice. What an annoying bitch.

_You are aware you just called yourself a bitch..._

...

Grr...

See? I couldn't win.

I shut the door behind me, placing my backpack at my feet and slyly, secretly hiding the knife underneath my leg in case he tried any thing. He got in and started the car, driving off. It was silent for a moment, before I looked up at the picture of him grinning with a smiling woman and a little boy. I saw resemblance and considered talking to him as I adjusted my fingerless leather gloves.

"Is that your family?" I blurted.

He looked over towards me before glancing at the picture, something hopeful (of course) and sad and immensely determined gleaming in his eyes as he looked at her. "That's my wife and son, yes."

I felt tempted to ask about them to fill the awkward thick silence, but considering they weren't with him and the way this world had changed for the worse, I had a feeling it was a touchy subject.

"She's beautiful." I complimented him gently. He gave me a small smile, genuine, warm. He really did seem like a nice person.

"Yes she is," he stared at her for a moment before looking back at the road.

He picked up a radio after a minute and started talking into it, I wondered if he was deluded. Did he honestly think there were more of us out there? Even if there was, I doubted they were in possession of a radio. They were probably hiding away from everything. I did the first couple of days this happened, I was too much of a coward. I just hid in the house with a bat and a few supplies, going out only if I was completely desperate.

No one responded.

As was expected.

Later I heard him curse and glanced at him with curious, narrowed eyes.

"What?"

"The gas..." he sighed and ran a hand through his hair after taking off his hat. "It's run out."

_Shit_.

He stopped the car and spotted a house ahead. He took the picture of him and his family then turned to me as he cocked his gun and picked up the bag of guns. "Stay here, I'm going to ask for some gas."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked him, a little concerned. I didn't really know what people were like in this day and age, considering I had avoided any confrontations head on.

"Well it's either that or walk the rest of the way." He told me, I hesitantly nodded then.

"Okay, just be careful." He nodded and then walked off towards the house.

Licking my lips nervously, I waited until I heard a strange tapping noise... a frown creased on my forehead... was that... hooves thudding against the floor?

Looking up, my eyes widened in both surprise and befuddlement as I gasped at the sight of Rick riding his merrily little way towards me on a living _horse _with the bag of guns strapped to him. He had a goofy grin on his face as he rode towards me. I laughed out loud in disbelief and got out the car, staring at the him and the horse.

"They don't give you gas, but they'll give you a _horse_?" I chuckled.

His expression was a little grim. "Actually, unlike Melinda Gordon, I can't speak to the dead."

Oh.

"Oh." I echoed my thoughts awkwardly.

"Would you like a hand getting on?" He asked, changing the topic. I chuckled and shook my head.

"Actually, I used to ride." I told him, he looked surprised as I approached the horse slowly and calmly, he exhaled through his nose sharply and shook his head, I held out my hand and gently stroked his nose, smiling.

"Really?" Rick asked, I nodded to confirm.

"My nan paid for my lessons. I rode a different horse each week, sometimes getting the same one." I informed Rick as I looked at the beautiful creature standing in front of me. "What should we name him?"

"Hmm." He smiled, stroking the horse's mane. "How 'bout biscuit?"

"Biscuit?" I asked, raising an eye brow. "Silly name for a horse."

"Well, what would you call him?" He challenged.

"Twilight."

"Like that vampire movie that teenage girls love?" He looked amused.

"No!" I scowled. "Not the damn stupid film... I meant _twilight! _As in the time of day? You know, between sunset and dusk_... _and hey, that's sterotypical! I'm a girl and I don't like twilight."

"Well still, people could get pretty confused." He grinned teasingly.

"Stupid film." I muttered, my scowl growing deeper.

"What about Lex?" He suggested with a small smile. "It's the nickname for Alex, and that can be a boy _and_ girl's name."

"I like it." I agreed, then he held out his hand and I used it for leverage as I climbed up. I patted Lex on his back and grabbed a hold of Rick's waist. But he obviously hadn't ridden in a while, he even said it, because he ended up causing Lex to go into a gallop into the field. Rick was freaking out a little while I was laughing. I couldn't remember the last time I laughed like this.

"Here we are." Rick said quietly, stopping the horse in his tracks for a moment, I noticed he was frowning and I followed his gaze through the empty high way towards Atlanta. The cars were filled on the other side, going _out_ of the place instead of _towards_ it. Something wasn't right here.

"_Here_?" I asked in concern, leaning forward and looking over his shoulder, I had a very bad feeling deep in my gut. Apprehension rose on the back of my neck and I swallowed, unnerved from it all and uneasy. "Rick, this place is a ghost town. Are you sure?"

"Yeah." His response was quiet, a little undertone of uncertainty. He clicked his tongue and kicked the stirrup's, gripping the reins and lifting them a little higher as he looked around, guiding Lex through the completely empty street slowly just in case.

Crows cawed in the background, my nerves twisted tightly, my grip on Rick's stomach increased tightly and clenched until he probably got nail marks into his skin. "Rick? Don't crows peck the remains of dead bodies?"

His response was a little nervous. I didn't like it. "Let's look around first, then I swear to you we'll get the hell outta here. I promise I'd protect you, I'm gonna keep that promise."

"Okay," I whispered timidly, hugging his waist closer as if he was a teddy bear. This was very bad...

A few moments later, with no results of finding anybody, I nudged Rick. "Maybe we should go back."

"We've come this far, we can't quit now." Rick said sternly, but gently. I knew he wouldn't listen to me, he was a man determined out to find his family. That was one of the most dangerous things to mess with.

We passed a bus with a few dead people in there, I gulped. I hoped they were _really_ dead.

"Shit! Rick!" I hissed sharply in a whisper quietly when the walker at the front suddenly stood up. Lex jerked and neighed in terrified alarm, walking sideways as he made sure to stay away from the undead bastard. I didn't blame him.

"Whoa! _Steady_." Rick tried to calm Lex down, I saw another on the bus stand up, panic was starting to swell in my stomach. I nudged Rick again when he didn't pay attention. My mind was on full alert at the sight of walkers moving towards us.

"_Rick!_" I snapped, wanting to get the hell out of there.

"Don't worry," he reassured to both Lex and I. "It's just a few, nothing we can't handle."

"Rick." I warned as we came up to a dead end near the cars. "Just go back where it's safe. We can't go any further. You promised you would protect me."

"And I will." He assured firmly, turning the corner and making Lex go into a trot.

"That's... that's a _tank_." I observed smartly as we stopped by one. Then my stomach lurched when I saw a couple of crows on an undead rotting body, one pecked the body. _Gross_. The other started cawing loudly as if it was a Walker's dinner bell. Bugger. I knew this was a bad idea. "Dammit, Rick. I _told_ you so! Didn't I tell you where there's crows, there's dead bodies?"

"It's alright." He announced stubbornly, ducking his head to avoid hitting his head on the main gun aimed out. I ducked too but shook my head at Rick.

"Rick, that cawing will attract rotters." I said. "Not to mention the groaning, it lures them. Don't you know _anything_?"

"Look, Mae. Just calm the heck down. I said I'll protect you if anything bad happens, and I _will."_ Rick sounded annoyed now by all my little worried commented. "I'm not making you do anything you don't want to do, but getting _off_ the horse and being vulnerable to a walker attack is worse than going this way. And I don't want to leave you for dead."

My lips flattened into a thin line. "I'm just saying, I think it's a bad idea."

I suddenly heard something.

"What the...?" I looked up, as did Rick when we heard the vibrating flutter of... is that a bloody _helicopter?_ "Where's that coming from?"

"I don't know." Rick answered, then we saw it. In the reflection of a building, we saw the copter flying across Atlanta. "Yah!" I was startled when Rick made Lex go into a gallop, following the copter. I was scared as to what to do, as was Lex. He had no choice and I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I could either get off the horse and become a target, or stay with Rick and die.

Either way, I was screwed.

As soon as Rick turned a corner, Lex halted in his steps and neighed in terror.

My heart stopped.

The whole street was covered with walkers. Groaning, snarling, _starving_ walkers.

"Shit."


End file.
